


Once More, From the Top

by EveTen



Series: All The World's A Stage [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Injury, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, it's kind of a homecoming re-write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-08 12:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveTen/pseuds/EveTen
Summary: Peter Parker was Spider-Man.Don't worry, Peter could hardly believe it either!  It's so cool, right?  Way too cool for him! He gets to fight crime and beat up bad guys and throw himself from buildings.  It's an adrenaline junky's dream and Peter gets to live it!So awesome.It'd only be better if he got to hang with other heroes.  Like Iron Man!  It would have been so cool if he had gotten to fight at that airport fight all of the heroes had fought in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we go I guess? Honestly, for a while after I saw Endgame I kinda debated on just...not doing this? But I got sucked back in and here we go.
> 
> Just for some clarification: this is a rewrite of Spider-Man: Homecoming with the only real difference, plot point wise, being that Tony never recruited Peter to fight for him. He left Spider-Man and his identity alone.
> 
> Assume everything happened in Civil War the same way it did in the movie.
> 
> Otherwise, this is essentially how I see Homecoming playing out without Tony's influence. I did take some leaps, I will admit, in some areas because, to be honest, I kinda had to. That movie really was built around their relationship whether or not we realize it.
> 
> Three more things: Make sure to pay attention to the tags, especially the archive warning, and I do tend to prefer to read this myself as on story so you might want to click the "Entire Work" button at the top. That's entirely reader's choice though! I also took some liberties with the homecoming script so some things are rewritten slightly or simply glossed or skipped over.

_Before_

 

Tony flipped through page after page of soul crushing legislation.  Irrationally, he suddenly felt the urge to shake Rogers’ hand and say " _Yeah, fuck ‘em_. _"_  

It was, disappointingly, only a fleeting thought.

 

Honestly, Tony was confused as to how _he_ ended up being the voice in the room promoting adherence to a higher authority.  Tony made a mockery of democracy at least twice a month.  He didn’t get why Rogers—

 

Well, that’s not true.  He kind of, _just a little bit_ , understood why Rogers objected to the Accords.  As they were, the Accords were pretty…shitty.  That was by necessity, unfortunately, but it wasn’t permanent.  Hell, there were already committees and panels lined up to start _amending_ the Accords in the UN when Ross held the meeting to get the Avengers onboard.  Governments did that sort of thing all the time.  Legislation was passed in one form, ratified, and then amended so much that it became an entirely different thing.

 

That was the whole point of everyone signing.  If they signed, they got to participate in the amendment procedure.  Tony was in the beginning stages of planning a trip to India to try and get some people over there onboard with his ideas.

 

Tony just couldn’t understand why Steve wouldn’t even try to see Tony’s side.

 

Tony shook his head and stepped away from the desk.  He needed to focus on something else.

 

He had rogue Avengers to deal with after all.

 

He knew they weren’t going to come back without a fight but Tony trusted that they weren’t going to actually _fight_.  Tensions were high, he knew that, but these people were his _friends_.  They knew him better than nearly anyone else and he was fairly certain he knew more about them than most too.

 

Tony pulled up the video of the Spider-Man in Queens.

 

He hummed as he watched the guy stop a car with his bare hands.

 

Tony shook his head.  He didn’t need to bring outsiders into an already complex situation.

 

He was confident that they could work their problems out.

 

Spider-Man could wait.

 

* * *

 

 

_After_

 

Tony had always had trust issues.  That might not be a surprise to most but _how_ those issues manifested might.  That is to say that Tony is actually a fairly trusting individual.

 

He trusted his father to show up to birthdays and on holidays.

 

He trusted his mother when she said that she would always be there for him.

 

He trusted Obadiah to take care of his company.

 

He trusted Steve fucking Rogers to be the voice of reason and to not hurt the people they both considered friends.  To not hurt _Tony_.

 

He trusted himself to not fuck the world up.

 

He trusted himself to never underestimate people again.

 

He trusted himself to keep innocents, _children_ , safe.

 

Staring at the broken body of a broken boy sedated in his compound’s medical center, Tony realized that he was so, so wrong to have _ever_ trusted himself.

 

Really, he thought to himself, he knew better.

 

He had trust issues, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter Parker was, for all intents and purposes, pretty happy.  He was a freakin’ super hero, for one, and was also pretty confident that his sophomore year of high school was going to be the best.

 

Because of the super hero thing obviously.  The actual school part, he thought, sucked.  He dropped nearly all of his extracurriculars; he only kept decathlon because he knew his only friend would pretty quickly become his ex-friend if he quit.

 

He was pretty proud of himself though.  He managed to arrange his schedule so that most of his classes that year were fairly easy.  He even got out of school early!

 

Like, seriously.  Who needed school when you had super powers?  Who ever heard of Captain America going to college?

 

Well, that might not have been the best example seeing as how Captain America was a war criminal or something after that whole mess with the Sokovia Accords.  Honestly, Peter wasn’t sure _why_ all of that stuff happened the way it did but he was sure that he would have given anything to have been a part of that fight at that airport in Germany he saw online.

 

Like, it would have been so cool if Tony freakin’ Stark, freakin’ _Iron Man_ , just flew down from the sky after Peter had webbed up some, like, bank robbers or something and said, “ _Help me, Spider-Man, you’re my only hope._ “

 

Dream freakin’ come true!

 

Peter gave himself chills on the subway and shuddered just a little.  The lady next to him side-eyed him.

 

Nice job, Parker, he thought to himself.  You’re officially _that_ guy.

 

Peter shook himself and started to mess with his phone.  He wanted to try and come up with some kind of alert for more serious crimes that would give him time to get on scene.  Maybe if he could tap directly into calls to 9-1-1?

 

Wait, not that Peter didn’t want to stop _all_ crime.  It was just that, uh, grand theft bicycle got kinda old after a while. So he wanted something a little more exciting in his crime fighting superhero adventures, sue him.

 

Peter had just started to read an article on how emergency services dispatch worked in New York when the train stopped and the operator announced his station. He hopped off, squeezing between crowds of people, and began to make his way to school.

 

Flash nearly hit him with his car as he walked towards the front doors, which was no big surprise, and Peter headed straight for his locker.

 

As he was putting away his books, he felt someone walk up next to him.

 

“Join me and together we will build my new Lego Death Star!”

 

Peter whipped his head to stare at Ned.  “What! No way, that’s awesome.  How many pieces?”

 

“3,803!”

 

“That’s insane!”

 

“Wanna build it tonight?”

 

Peter hesitated.  Coming up with excuses not to hang out was always hard because Peter really didn’t have a good, consistent excuse to skip out.

 

“I can’t—“

 

“Come on dude!  You’re always busy lately. Please?”

 

“Sorry.”

 

They had started to walk to their classes when Peter spotted Liz across the hall.  God, she was just so _pretty_.  And smart.  She was super kind and compassionate and, like, _genuine_.  Peter just so wanted to be in, like, her eyesight.  That would be enough.  Oh, but what if she actually wanted to, like, date him?

 

“Yeah, that’s be great.”

 

“Awesome! See you at lunch, man.”

 

Peter waved at Ned as he watched Liz walk by.

 

He’d see Ned later.

 

* * *

 

After school, Peter wasted no time getting into his costume and put onto the streets.  May didn’t get home from work until 10 or 11 on weekdays so Peter had plenty of time to spend out on patrol.

 

Patrol.  He felt like a legit superhero when he referred to it like that.

 

“Don’t mind me, citizens!” He muttered to himself as he slipped his goggles on.  “I’m just patrolling the area!”

 

He giggled.  Yeah, he was kind of a dork but who wouldn’t be when you could do the things Peter could now?  No one, that’s who!

 

He webbed his backpack to the side of a dumpster and jumped up to the rooftops.  The feeling of being in the air, weightless, never got old and Peter couldn’t remember what life was like before it sometimes.

 

He pulled out his scanner and listened as hard as he could.  He just needed to find someone to help.

 

Suddenly, he heard a man shout at a pickpocket who stole his wallet barely a block away.  He grinned and leaped from his rooftop perch and began to sling his way to the shouting.

 

Homework could wait.  He had _so_ much more important and _awesome_ work to do.

 

* * *

 

Awesome was a really a good word to describe that night in Peter’s life.

 

Terrifying was also a good one.

 

Just before he was going to call it quits and head home for the night, Peter saw several men with Avengers masks enter an ATM station with heavy equipment.

 

That was a robbery in the making if he’d ever seen one.

 

He jumped to the door and—

 

Bright light flared.

 

Holy shit.  The things the men were carrying were _weapons_.

 

That had to be alien tech.  No way was that from Earth.

 

He stepped in.  They didn’t notice him.

 

It was a little awkward.

 

“Uh, hey, guys.”

 

They turned in near unison.

 

“Oh, whoa, are you the Avengers?  You guys look way different in person!”

 

Then the fighting started.

 

* * *

 

Peter, exhausted and smelling of smoke, jumped down into the alley he changed in.

 

“Geez, those weapons are really, really dangerous.”  He muttered to himself.  “I gotta find out where they’re coming from and- aw, man!”

 

His backpack was missing.

 

“Ugh!” He threw his hands up at the sky.

 

“Seriously?  Another one?  All of my assignments were in there! Who even wants to steal school supplies?”

 

He shook his head and made his way home.  He’d just have to tell May he needed a new one.  Maybe Ned would let him use his stuff for a little while.

 

He had to sneak in through his window, _again_ , because his clothes were stolen with his backpack.

 

He managed to crawl through his window and make his way over the ceiling to close the door. He turned, removing his goggles and mask, and—

 

“Oh my god.”

 

Ned.  Oh god, _Ned_.

 

Ned dropped the nearly finished Death Star he was holding.

 

“You-you’re the Spider-Man! From YouTube!”

 

Peter shook his head rapidly.  “N-no! I’m not!”

 

Ned just gaped at him.

 

Peter started to strip off his costume, not thinking of the fact that he was doing so in front of _his best friend_.

 

“You can’t tell anyone!”

 

“This is the best day of my life.” Ned said as he stared at Peter dumbfounded.

 

Peter who had his shirt off, his pants around his ankles, and his boxes had slipped half way down his thighs, only barely covering him, because they stuck a bit to his pants.

 

May, of course, chose to walk in the moment Ned opened his stupid mouth.

 

She stopped as she took in the sight before her.  She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she spoke.  “So. Dinner is a disaster and we’re getting Thai.  Peter: put clothes on.  Ned: be safe going home.”

 

She left.

 

Peter and Ned blinked at each other for a moment.  Ned looked at the Death Star’s remains scattered across Peter’s bedroom floor, sighed, and started to walk at the door.

 

“We’ll finish this tomorrow.”  He said as he left Peter alone and nearly naked.

 

“No you won’t!”  May yelled from her bedroom.

 

Ned left very, _very_ , quickly.

 

He stared despondently at his bunk bed.  “What just happened?”

 

* * *

 

Dinner was fun.

 

“Listen, I don’t care if you like boys or just Ned but you really, really need to be better at this sort of thing—“

 

“May! It wasn’t what it looked like! I was just changing and—“

 

“I realize you’re changing, Peter, but still—“

 

“No! Clothes! I was changing clothes!”

 

“Peter, honey, I just want you to be safe.  And careful.  I really don’t need to walk in on you—“

 

“May! We are in a restaurant! Public!”

 

“Oh, fine, we can talk about this later.”

 

“Thank you!”

 

...

 

...

 

...

 

“Also, I need a new backpack and money to replace some textbooks.”

 

“Peter! Again?”

 

“Sorry?”

 

* * *

 

Peter had never been so glad to get into his bed.  He hadn’t had such a ridiculous day in a long time.

 

He slipped under the covers and shut his eyes.

 

He lay there for a moment before he shot up.

 

“Shit!  I forgot to ask Ned for his assignments!”


	3. Chapter 3

Peter loved Ned.  He did, he really did, but his best friend could be so _irritating_.

 

“Do you lay eggs?”

 

What.

 

“Can you control an army of spiders?”

 

Why.

 

“Are your webs—“

 

“Ned!”

 

Ned blinked.  “What?”

 

Peter breathed in a deep breath as he started a new rep of sit ups.  “Gym is not the best place to talk about this.”

 

“Oh okay.  We can talk later.”

 

They worked in silence for a while before they heard Liz and some other girls talking about superheroes and a party.  Then everything went horribly, terribly wrong.

 

“Peter knows Spider-Man!”

 

Dammit Ned.

 

* * *

 

Something that Peter had yet to grow out of was social anxiety.  He had always felt awkward and uncomfortable around people so social gatherings were particularly unpleasant for him.  His work as Spider-Man had helped him a little; mainly in actually speaking up more.

 

For the most part, though, Peter and society did not mix.

 

Ned had some how managed to get the two of them invited to a part at Liz’s house.

 

 _Liz’s house_.

 

Needless to say, he was more than a little terrified.  The girl he had a massive crush on was throwing a massive party and he was invited by her because of a lie his friend told about him.

 

Holy shit, did Peter want to fall into a deep hole and die.

 

But because it was Ned asking Peter decided to suck it up and go.

 

May drove them.  It was as horrifying as it sounded.  She was actually quiet throughout most of the drive but the misery started right when they pulled up to Liz’s house.

 

She cleared her throat.  “Alright, boys.  We’re gonna have a talk before you go in there.”

 

Peter gulped.

 

“Now, I know you’re both young and teenage boys and you’re figuring yourselves out and that’s fine.  That’s totally fine!  But I just want you to be careful.  So just remember that consent is only consent if everyone involved is aware, that means sober, enough to _actually_ consent.”

 

“May, oh my god, stop—“

 

“Hush, Peter.  Now, I’m sorry I interrupted before, even though you really should’ve had the door locked, and I wanted to try and make up for that.”

 

May reached into her purse and pulled out two sleeves of condoms that she threw at Ned and Peter.

 

Peter just wanted death to go ahead and take him.  He couldn’t force himself to look back at Ned.

 

“Just be safe, practice good habits, and be respectful of one another.  And don’t have sex at another person’s home.  If you do, at least clean up.  Have fun!”

 

Peter nearly ripped the car door off trying to get out.

 

He walked very, very quickly to the house and Ned fell in beside him.

 

“Uh, Pete, should we—“

 

“No, Ned.  No.  Never mention this ever again.  The last five minutes did not happen.”

 

“So May thinks we’re—“

 

“Ned!”

 

He threw his hands up in a defensive way.  “Alright, but—“

 

They reached the door and Peter threw it open.

 

Liz was on the other side, feet away. “Oh, hey, Peter!  Hi, Ned. I’m glad you guys could come!”

 

The English language failed Peter at that moment. “Ye-yeah, uh, you- I mean us too.”

 

Liz tilted her head and squinted at him. “Well, have fun, okay?”

 

Then she left.

 

Peter stared.

 

“Dude. Breathe, Pete. Breathe.”

 

He nodded.

 

“No, I mean you need to bring air into your lungs before you suffocate.”

 

With greater effort than should be necessary for a super powered human, Peter started to breathe again.

 

“There we go! Man, you’ve got it bad for Liz, huh? Hey, at least you’ll definitely be on her good side after Spider-Man shows up!”

 

“Y-yeah. Yeah! That’ll be awesome. I’ll do some cool flips, say hi to my best friend, maybe tell her thanks for hosting or something, and then leave! And then I can come back and be all, “Yeah, Spidey said bye and thanks again,” and then she’ll _notice_ me.”

 

“I like that I could hear the italics in your voice.”

 

“Right?”

 

They moved into the kitchen where Michelle nodded at them. They nodded back.

 

Yeah. Peter and Ned could _finally_ be cool.

 

“‘Sup Penis Parker!”

 

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

 

“Flash—“

 

“Nope, bye.”

 

Flash grabbed a drink and left as quick as he came.

 

Peter turned to Ned. “Do you think he has a super power? Like he can sense when I’m in a building and always knows how to find me?”

 

Ned shrugged.

 

Peter sighed. “Well, I’m gonna go get changed.”

 

* * *

 

“Alright,” Peter said to himself as he slipped his goggles on, “c’mon Spider-Man. Be cool.”

 

He deepened his voice. “Hey everyone. Just wanted to give a shout out to my bro Peter and his friend Ned. Thanks for having me guys.”

 

He nodded to himself. That sounded okay—

 

There was a bright flash and a boom in the distance.

 

He whipped his head around and tried to get a better look.  Another bright flash and a boom erupted from the same spot.

 

Shit.  That explosion was definitely caused by something like those alien weapons from the bank. He needed to get there.

 

He cast his gaze back down at Ned. He was sitting by himself.

 

“Sorry, Ned.” Peter whispered and then took off.

 

* * *

 

By the time he got to the overpass there had been five more explosions. Whoever was doing the shooting must have either been practicing or a really terrible shot.

 

“...listen, man, I don’t know if—“

 

“Come on, give it a shot. I guarantee you’ll want more. These are the best weapons you can get.”

 

“I just need something to hold someone up, man, not destroy a building.”

 

Peter’s phone rang. He fumbled for it and switched it off.

 

“Did you tell someone about this? Someone follow you here?”

 

The guy that had been trying to sell a weapon was now pointing one at his customer. The customer had his hands up and was stammering.

 

“No, man, I swear!”

 

Peter couldn’t stay still anymore. He jumped down and placed himself between the two men.

 

“Hey, hey, don’t shoot him, shoot me!”

 

The weapons seller shrugged. “Okay.”

 

The weapon flared and Peter moved. Luckily, the guy behind had moved when he landed so Peter’s dodge didn't endanger him.

 

The arms dealers retreated to their van after a couple of shots and took off.  Peter pursued them and managed, eventually, to get on the van.

 

Of course the guy shot the door Peter was hanging off of. Peter ran as fast as he could through yards and streets and just as he was leaped from a roof top and onto the van something sharp grabbed hold of him.

 

He was suddenly lifted upwards. He kept going and going and going.

 

He tried to get a good look at the thing, the _man_ with _wings_ , that was holding him.  All he could really see were green eyes, goggles not eyes, looking down at him.

 

Then he was falling.

 

He screamed.

 

“Shit! Too high, too high!”

 

He scrambled, barely able to breathe. The only thing going through Peter’s mind was his rapidly approaching death and—

 

Bridge.

 

Bridge!

 

It wouldn’t help a lot, his webbing might not hold, but it was his best shot.

 

He managed to angle himself so that he fell closer and closer to the bridge and aimed as best he could.

 

He’d have to time it just right.

 

He hoped the webbing could reach.

 

He—

 

He launched the webbing.

 

He felt it land.

 

He felt his arm _rip_ out of its socket. He screamed so loudly, so high, he couldn’t—

 

He hit the water.

 

He didn’t quite pass out but it was a near thing.  He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t focus, his shoulder and arm hurt so bad, and he couldn’t see.

 

Nearly blind, he desperately swam his way to the surface, frantically kicking his legs to make up for his useless arm.

 

He broke through the surface and gasped for air. He used his good arm to remove the mask that was clinging to his face.

 

He took a moment to catch his breath before he slowly started to make his way to the banks of the river. It was slow going, of course, because Peter had a useless arm that was _nearly ripped off of his body._

 

Fuck, physics hurt.

 

Everything was so cold.  The water and the night air made Peter shive nearly uncontrollably when he finally reached land. He stood, shaking, and then fumbled for his phone.  He really, really hoped that it survived.  He tapped it, pressed every button he could, even shook it and smacked it against his hand. It was useless. The water ruined it.

 

“U-uh, f-f-fuck!” He shivered.

 

At least he was on the right side of the river. He would just have to start walking back to Liz’s house.

 

As he started back to the party, he noticed a glowing piece of alien tech just laying on the ground.

 

He picked it up with his good arm and pocketed it. Maybe he and Ned could do something with it.

 

* * *

 

Blocks away from Liz’s house, after a lot of pain and jostling, Peter decided he needed to set his arm. He wasn’t exactly sure how to do it but he’d seen enough TV and enough movies to get the general idea.

 

He braces himself and pushed his arm back into place.

 

Peter _screamed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, remember how in the beginning note I mentioned that I took a few leaps? This was one of them. To be honest, Peter should have died in this chapter. Based on what I could see in the movie, even if he had been let go at that height instead of having the parachute release him and hit the water, he should have impacted on the water like it was cement. The bridge that I mention, the thing that saved his life in this fic, was too far.
> 
> In this particular instance, Peter and the Vulture were a little bit closer to the bridge than in the movie which is what saved Peter but, if literally everything else had stayed the same and Peter didn't have the parachute that Tony gave him, Peter really should have died. But that wouldn't be that great of a story so here we are.
> 
> But, this should hopefully be the last long note from me! I hope to see you guys next time!


	4. Chapter 4

By the time Peter had changed and returned to the house, the party was winding down and Ned was sitting on the sidewalk outside of it. May was supposed to pick them up soon, Peter thought, so he needed to be presentable.

 

He walked straight to Ned, holding his right arm to brace it. “H-hey, man.”

 

Ned looked up at him, as despondent as Peter had ever seen him. “Hey.”

 

Peter swallowed. “S-sorry I left you. There was, um, a thing. Some of those weapons dealers—“

 

“I tried to call you.”

 

Peter sat down. “Yeah. I had to decline it because of this, like, arms deal—“

 

“No, after that.”

 

“Oh. Uh, I fell. Into a river. From like, two thousand feet.”

 

Ned stared. ”What? Seriously? Dude!”

 

“Yeah, um, this flying vulture guy flew down and picked me up to keep me from catching the weapons dealers. You know, the ones are selling those alien weapons? They were meeting this guy to sell him stuff and then I interrupted it and chased them and right as I was about to catch them the bird guy swoops down and grabs me. He dropped me over the water and I nearly died. If there hadn’t been a high enough bridge nearby I would have died.”

 

“Dude! Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Ned sounded really alarmed now and a lot less upset about  the party.

 

Peter gestured at his arm. “Ripped my arm out of its socket. I pushed it back in. I’m pretty sure it’s started healing. My phone broke too.”

 

 Ned shook his head. “No, dude, you probably didn’t set it right! You need to tell May and go to a doctor—“

 

Peter waved his good arm frantically in Ned’s face. “No! We can’t tell May! And no doctor! They’ll figure out I’m not normal and then my life is over!”

 

“Dude, your arm could be seriously hurt!”

 

“I have super healing! I’ll be fine, I swear.”

 

Ned opened his mouth to object more but they noticed May’s car just down the street.

 

“Please. Just don’t say anything. And if May asks, I dropped my phone in the pool.”

 

Ned nodded but didn’t look happy about it.

 

May pulled up beside them and they slid into the back.

 

“Hey boys. Did you have fun? But not too much fun. Right? Not at someone else’s house during a party?”

 

Oh god. Peter had forgotten about May thinking that he and Ned were—

 

“May! God, no, please, just—“

 

“Alright, alright. I’m trusting you boys, okay?”

 

After that, they started the drive home. It was silent for a few minutes before Peter spoke.

 

“Uh, May?”

 

“Yeah, hun?”

 

“I, uh, need a new phone.”

 

It was silent for a second.

 

“What.”

 

“I need a new—“

 

“Peter! Seriously? Are you physically incapable of being responsible for your things? Oh, you are so lucky we got the insurance, young man, or you would just have to deal without. Oh, I can’t believe you!”

 

“Aw, May, c’mon, I’m sorry—“

 

“Shush! I’m mad at you!”

 

Ned snickered.

 

“Oh no! Don’t you start, Ned! Don’t think I don’t hold you at least partially responsible for your boyfriend’s irresponsibility! Maybe even fully responsible. Were you two trying to have se—”

 

“May!”

 

“Peter! Quiet!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Peter stared blankly at his wall. It was Sunday, his homework was finished, and May was home. He’d been grounded for the weekend because of his phone and he couldn’t leave to go out as Spider-Man.

 

He was _so bored_. He had forgotten what he did with his free time before he was Spider-Man.  His arm still hurt really bad so he tried to keep it in a sling when May wasn’t home or at least keep it still when she was so he couldn’t play any games or anything!

 

So, he sat at his desk and stared at the wall. He tried to figure out what to do about the weapons dealers but he came up short. Without knowing where they were—

 

“That’s it! A tracker!”

 

“What?” May yelled from the living room.

 

“Uh, nothing! Um, could Ned come over? I need his help with a project?”

 

He heard May sigh and get up from the couch. She walked to his door and leaned against the frame. “You’re grounded. You know that, right?”

 

“I know, I know, but please? It’s important!”

 

May sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Alright fine. But only for a little while.”

 

She handed him his new phone and left.

 

Peter dialed Ned. He picked up after a couple of rings. “Hey man.”

 

“Ned! Hey, do you think you could help me make a tracking device?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“To track the weapons dealers.”

 

“Uh, sure! That isn’t too complex. Yeah, I’ll be over soon.”

 

“Awesome!”

 

* * *

 

 

Peter and Ned stared at the glowing... _thing_ that Peter had picked up. They had it placed in a vise in shop class and were examining it.

 

Well, Peter thought as he hit it with hammer with his good arm and it made a reverberation, they were _trying_ to examine it.

 

“Dude, what do you think this is? Like a power source or something?” Ned asked.

 

“Probably. It doesn’t seem like a weapon and I don’t know what else it could be used for besides some kind of mechanical component.” Peter replied.

 

“Huh.  Yeah, I charge my toothbrush with a plate like that.”

 

“Whoever’s making this stuff has to be mixing our tech with alien tech.”

 

“God, that’s just so cool.  Thank you for letting me be a part of your journey, Pete, seriously—“

 

Peter hit the glowy thingy again and accidentally sent it flying, causing an even greater vibration.

 

“Keep your hands clear of the blades!”  The teacher droned.

 

Ned and Peter stared at each other wide eyed.

 

“We’ll take it to the lab after class?”

 

Ned nodded. “Sounds good.”

 

They leave the shop and start to make their way to their next class.

 

“So, I was thinking that we could put the glowy thingy in the mass spec—“

 

“First we need to come up with a better name.”

 

“Yeah, definitely.”

 

Suddenly, two men rounded the corner.  Two very familiar men.  Peter grabbed Ned by his shirt and dragged him out of sight.

 

“Those are the guys that tried to kill me!”  Peter whispered.

 

Ned gasped.  “What? Those guys?”

 

“Yes!”

 

They stared at each other.  They jumped when they heard a knock on the window.  A boy stared at them.  They stared back.

 

“I’m gonna follow them.”  Peter whispered to Ned.

 

He nodded.

 

Peter took off and managed to get to the shop while the men were still there.  He silently made his way down the steps and positioned himself near the table.  The ambled about for a few moments before they figured out that the glowy thing wasn’t in the shop anymore and made their way out.  Peter hid under the table and, very carefully, launched the tracker that he and Ned made at one of them.

 

It stuck.  It _actually_ stuck!

 

Peter would have whooped if it wouldn’t have gotten him killed.

 

* * *

 

 

Ned sat beside Peter on Peter’s bed, computer open, pulling up the tracking data.

 

“They’re in Maryland?  Near D.C. actually.”

 

Peter moaned.  “How am I gonna get to D.C.?”

 

Ned shrugged.  “Maybe we’ll just have to wait?  I’m sure they’ll—“

 

Ned trailed off.

 

Peter turned to look at his best friend.  “What?”

 

Ned pointed at Peter’s wall.

 

Peter looked and saw nothing but the—

 

“Decathlon.  The Decathlon is in D.C. this year!”

 

Ned grinned. “Yeah! We can definitely get to them from there!”

 

Peter pumped his fist excitedly.  “And here I was dreading that trip!”

 

Ned knocked Peter’s arm with the back of his hand.  “Hey!”

 

“What?  I didn’t think I could be Spider-Man in D.C.”

 

They snickered to themselves for a moment and then fell silent.

 

After a minute, Ned spoke.  “Wanna watch _The Flash_?”

 

Peter nodded.  “Sure.  I’ve never seen it though.”

 

“It’s good!  You’ll like it.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So, because he can move super fast he can phase through things? I’m not sure physics works like that.”

 

“They give some decent justification—“

 

“It’s not that great—“

 

“Dude, your muscles defy physics, biology, _and_ chemistry. You don’t have a whole lot of room to talk.”

 

“What? What does that mean?”

 

“You can lift a bus with your bare hands. But look at this.”

 

Ned reaches over and took his hand. “Your hands are smaller than mine. They’re delicate and frail! And look at this.”

 

Ned wrapped a hand around Peter’s good arm. “My man, your arms are noodles. You shouldn’t have the muscle capacity to do the things you do but you do them anyway. So, really, between you and the Flash, you’re really the one that’s more fake.”

 

“Excuse you! I’m _not_ some fake ass bitch.”

 

“Compared to the guy that can manipulate his atoms so finely that they move, vibrate I mean, so quickly they phase through solid matter, you kinda are.”

 

“Dude!”

 

* * *

 

 

“You have everything packed?  Your toothbrush?  Underwear?  Do I need to get you condoms?”

 

Peter groaned.  “May!  God!”

 

“What? I know you and Ned—“

 

“May! For the last time—“

 

She shook her head.  “I know, I know.  Stay out of it, be the cool parent.  I gotcha, kid.”

 

Sometimes May made Peter want to pull his hair out.

 

“Is there any point in asking you to just drop the whole thing?”

 

May snorted.  “None at all.”

 

Peter sighed, defeated.  “Yeah.  I figured.”

 

“So are you excited about the trip?  You’ve never been outside of the city before.  I’m sorry Ben and I weren’t able to do that for you.”  May said as she helped Peter pack some shirts.

 

He was glad that he had already packed his Spider-Man suit into his backpack.  He really didn’t need May finding that while she was rolling his shirts.

 

“You don’t have to be sorry!”  Peter said quickly.  “I know it was hard on you guys getting landed with me.  I’m sorry that I stopped you guys from—“

 

“Hey!”  May interrupted, pointing her finger at him.  “We didn’t get landed with you, we wanted you.  So _you_ don’t have to be sorry for anything.  Ben loved you and I love you.  We would have taken you over any trip any day.”

 

She smiled and hugged him.  “So, do us both a favor and have a ton of fun on this trip okay?  Bring home a trophy for your aunt.”

 

Peter nodded against her shoulder.  “I can do that.”

 

“And please don’t lose or break your phone again.”

 

“May!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's where it gets a lot less fun my friends.
> 
> Let me preface with this: I'm sorry.

The ride to D.C. was long and so _boring_.  All they did was quiz and quiz and quiz some more.  Like, Peter understood wanting to be super prepared for these thing but really?  Nearly four hours of constant quizzing was a little much.

 

But it was Liz doing the quizzing so Peter could bear it.  God, Liz could quiz him for days.  _Days_. 

 

Oh, dear.

 

Peter might have accidentally discovered his first kink. 

 

‘Yes, Liz, please, quiz me.  How many freckles do I have, you ask?  I don’t actually know! Maybe we should perform an examination—‘

 

“Peter!”

 

“H-huh?  Wh-what?”

 

Liz was staring at him in confusion.  “It’s your turn? Do you need me to repeat the question?”

 

Peter turned scarlet and he could hear Flash laughing as he answered quietly.  “Yes please.”

 

* * *

 

By the time they reached their hotel Peter was pretty antsy.  He wanted to pull out the tracking information and get started.

 

Peter and Ned were given a room together and they got settled quickly.

 

“C’mon, c’mon!  Ned!  Pull it up!”

 

Ned shook his head.  “Dude, calm down.  We just got here!”

 

“Yeah, but they could already be leaving town or something!”

 

Ned sighed.  “Give me a minute to get everything ready.  Will you get me a snack from the vending machine?”

 

Peter nodded quickly and ran out the door.

 

God, this was so cool!  They were gonna find these arms dealers and put a stop to them.  It’d be Peter’s, _Spider-Man’s_ , first bust outside of New York!  Well, it’d actually be his first bust period.  Up to this point all he’d really had to deal with were petty criminals.  The worst thing he’d ever stopped was a mugging, if he were being honest.  Not that that was, like, bad!  No, the guy being mugged was super grateful and he hadn’t been hurt so that was good!  It was a good thing!  Peter was just a little bored.  He figured being a superhero would be a little more exciting than it had been so far.

 

He hadn’t even had his own supervillain yet.  Iron Man had that terrorist organization and the one dude in the super huge Iron Man suit when he started out.  Captain America had freakin’ Nazis and the Red Skull.  Peter had a bike jacker and a mugger.

 

He felt a little inadequate, maybe.  Like, Peter definitely felt he was good enough for the big leagues and this was definitely the opportunity for that.  The Vulture guy could be his first real villain!

 

As he was waiting for the machine to push out the Cheetos he was getting, his classmates ran past him and broke his train of thought.  They were laughing and giggling and dressed for the pool.

 

He turned back around and saw Liz running towards him.

 

She was in a bikini.  A pretty bare bikini that really, _really_ , didn’t leave a whole lot for Peter to imagine.

 

Holy shit, Liz was running toward him in a bikini, oh god, oh god!  What was he supposed to do?

 

“Hey, Peter!”  She giggled, slightly out of breath.  “How are you?  Do you and Ned wanna come to the pool with us?  I planned it as a team-building act of rebellion kind of thing.  You should come!”

 

She put her hand on his shoulder and then took off again.

 

Peter whimpered to himself.  Why, _why_ , did this have to happen when Peter had to do his superhero job?  _Why_?

 

He heard a bag fall and reached into the machine and grabbed the bag.  He made his way back to the room a little more sedated.  He opened the door, something that was a little more difficult to do with just one arm while trying to not hurt himself even more or drop the bag, and saw Ned sitting on the bed with his laptop in front of him.

 

“Hey, man.”  Peter greeted.  “How’s it going?”

 

“Good.  The tracker is online and I’ve got it’s location pulled up.”

 

“Dude!  That’s awesome, where is it?”  Peter ran over and looked over Ned’s shoulder.

 

Ned pointed at the screen.  “Here!  I figured we could just mirror the app I made for the tracker on to your phone and it could guide you there?”

 

Peter nodded.  “Yeah, definitely, here.”  Peter handed Ned his phone.  “I’m gonna change and then we can do this.”

 

Ned nodded and got to work. 

 

Peter grabbed his outfit and went to change in the bathroom.  It was still something of a struggle to change his shirt but he managed it.  He left the bathroom and retrieved his phone from Ned.

 

“So, are we all set?”

 

“Mostly.”  Ned confirmed.  “But are you sure you’re up to it?  I mean, it didn’t exactly go great for you last time—“

 

“I was off guard!”  Peter defended himself.

 

“And what about your arm?  You’re definitely not at a hundred percent yet.”

 

Peter grimaced.  That was a fair point.  “It’s mostly healed, I think.  It doesn’t normally take this long for my injuries to get better but I haven’t really been injured this badly before so maybe that’s way it seems like it's taking so long.”

 

Ned bit his lip.  “Listen, man, I really think it might be because of how you set it.  Maybe if you just go to a free clinic down here and give a fake name or—“

 

“No!” Peter shook his head.  “No hospitals.  We do this tonight.”

 

“Come on, Peter, what kind of boyfriend would it make me if I let you go off to fight bad guys alone while you were still hurt?  May would kill me!”

 

“Ugh!  Ned!  That’s not funny you know!”

 

“It’s a little funny.  The point still stands.  I worry that this might now be the best idea, you know, and I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

Peter knelt down beside Ned and gazed at him imploringly.  “ _Please_ , Ned.  I need to do this.  I can handle it.  Come on!  You’re my guy in the chair aren’t you?”

 

Ned rolled his eyes.  “Don’t do that.  That’s not fair.”

 

“ _Please_?”

 

Ned cleared his throat.  “Fine.  You better get moving then.”

 

Peter’s phone lit up and a map app pulled up.

 

Peter snapped on his goggles.  “Let’s go!”

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright, Pete, you’re gonna want to jump off right about...now!”

 

Peter leaped from the semi truck he’d hitched a ride on and rolled onto the grass beside the road.  He grunted from the impact jarring his hurt shoulder and tried not to cry out.

 

“Peter?  You alright?”  Peter could hear Ned’s voice coming from the phone in his pocket.

 

“Ye-yeah!  I’m good.  Just a little jolt.  Where am I going?”

 

“Uh, just walk straight ahead.  There should be an abandoned gas station.  They’re just waiting there.”

 

“Cool.  Hey, Ned?”  Peter asked while he started his approach.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can you set out my clothes for tomorrow?  I don’t know how much time I’ll have once I get back.”

 

“Sure.  They’re just in your suitcase right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Peter could hear some ruffling and then, oddly, some muffled laughter.

 

“Hey, Pete, are we planning on some fun?  You know, I’d like to be taken on an actual date before we do anything physical right?”

 

Peter stopped.  “What?”

 

“You have a, uh, surprise from May.  And a note.  I’ll read it to you.”

 

“Oh, god, Ned!  No!”

 

“‘Dear Petey Pie,  I want you and Ned to play it safe on your trip so I snuck some condoms in your case.  Try not to make too much of a mess for housekeeping, okay?  Have fun, Romeo!’”  Ned read.

 

Peter groaned and gripped his head with his hands.  “ _Why_ , May?”

 

Ned chuckled.  “I think it’s funny.  And, hey, even if you don’t use these condoms with me you could use them with someone else? Maybe _Liz_?”

 

Peter just about had a heart attack at the thought of that.  “Ned, jeez, you can’t say stuff like that while I’m trying to work!”

 

“Oh, alright.  How’s that going?”

 

“Give me a minute.”

 

Peter could see an old van from across the parking lot of the gas station.  It was dark so he couldn’t see anything but that wasn’t that much of an issue.  He shut his eyes and _listened_.

 

There were people in the van.  Peter couldn’t quite make out how many or what they were saying but there were definitely people there.  One of them had to be the guy he stuck the tracker on.

 

“Alright, Ned, I’m gonna let you go.  I’ll call you after or if I need help, okay?”

 

“Okay.  Be careful.”

 

Peter ended their call and moved to the roof of the station.  It offered the best vantage point, he thought, and would give him plenty of room to move around if he needed to.  He only had to wait for a few minutes before he saw a convoy of what looked like DoDC trucks headed towards the gas station and heard an unpleasantly familiar sound.  The wings and engines of the Vulture’s suit were not what Peter would call subtle or quiet.

 

He jumped from the roof to a thicker tree branch and then another and another until he managed to jump onto the last truck of the convoy.

 

He inspected the field of _something_ on the roof of the truck.  “It’s gotta be some kind of matter phase shifter.”  He touches it and his hand went through.  Probably selective shifting then?  Maybe keyed to certain materials?

 

He shook himself and moved so that he was out of sight.  When the Vulture came back up, Peter made his move.

 

He launched a web at the bag that the Vulture had already collected.

 

“That doesn’t belong to you Big Bird!”

 

The Vulture’s focus lasered in on Peter and Peter got really nervous. A fight with this guy hadn’t really gone Peter’s way last time but he was determined to make sure it did this time.  He jumped at his nemesis and—

 

Was swatted down into the truck like a bug.  He shook it off and jumped back into the fight.

 

Or, rather, he tried.  The truck was solid again and Peter hit his head.  He collapsed and was knocked into unconsciousness.

 

When he woke he was trapped and alone in a bunker.

 

* * *

 

 

It took Peter nearly 12 hours to get out of the DoDC bunker. He had to try every single combination of numbers for the lock by hand to open the door and it took forever. By the time he got out, the sun was shining and he was certain that he’d missed the competition.

 

He’d probably missed the Washington Monument tour too.

 

As he started to sling his way off of DoDC property, careful to avoid any cameras or guards and to not aggravate his still healing arm, his phone blew up.

 

Not literally, of course. He just hadn’t had any signal in the bunker. Most of them were probably from Ned. He felt really bad about worrying his friend with the radio silence.

 

And the not coming back to the hotel.

 

Jeez, he really hoped Ned hadn’t called anyone.

 

He found a good spot to stop and check his phone. He felt terrible about missing the competition and even worse for worrying Ned.

 

The first notification he saw was the most recent. It was a breaking news alert and it made his stomach full with dread.

 

“WASHINGTON MONUMENT BOMBED.  TWO STUDENTS, ONE TEACHER DEAD.”

 

No.

 

No.

 

“No, no, no, no!” Peter moaned.  “No, it can’t-they can’t—“

 

He couldn’t breathe.  His chest felt tight and—

 

Maybe…maybe it wasn’t them.  Maybe there was another school group.

 

Maybe Ned and Liz and MJ and Flash,  _everyone,_ were fine.  Maybe they were all okay.

 

He had to know.

 

He ran and he swung his way across town as fast as he could.

 

* * *

 

Peter stopped to quickly remove his mask and goggles, anything that could link him to Spider-Man, before he sprinted straight to the monument.  It was a mad house with what seemed like an army of emergency personnel and news crews.  There were lights everywhere and so many people shouting and crying.  It was just so _much_ and Peter was already panicking and—

 

He bumped into a policewoman.  She bustled past him, telling him to stay out of the way as he did.

 

He stood there, lost in the crowd of first responders and concerned tourists, and _listened_.

 

And he heard.

 

“Flash, man, calm down.  Breathe.  You’re right here, you’re safe.  You’re safe.”

 

MJ.

 

He ran and shoved and, by the time he got to where her voice was coming from, his heart was in his throat when he burst through a group of people.

 

Flash was sitting on the grass near the monument.  His face was tear stricken and he was shaking.  MJ knelt beside him, rubbing his back, whispering comfort to him.  The rest of his classmates, in dust and soot covered yellow Midtown blazers, stood and sat around them.  Abraham was speaking with a man in a suit.

 

But Mr. Harrington and Ned and Liz weren’t there.  Peter couldn’t see them or hear them.

 

He felt like he was turned to stone.

 

Flash was the first to notice him.

 

That went as well as could be expected.

 

Peter saw Flash’s face transform from terrified and grief-stricken to a kind of fury Peter’s only rarely seen.

 

“Where the _fuck_ were you?  Huh?  Where the _fuck_ were you, Parker?”  Flash snarled as knocked MJ’s hand away as he stormed towards Peter.

 

“I—“

 

Flash shoved him.  “Where the fuck did you go?  Where do you always go?  You’re constantly disappearing and I’m just about—“

 

MJ stepped between them, her back to Peter and facing Flash.  “Back.  Off.  It’s probably for the best he wasn’t here.”

 

MJ stopped a moment, as if she were contemplating whether to say anymore.  She shook her head and seemed to decide.  “We’d probably have three dead classmates instead of two if he had been here.”

 

Peter’s world stopped.

 

“Wh-what?”

 

MJ started to turn but Flash shouldered past her and got right into Peter’s face.  “Yeah.  Liz and Leeds are fucking dead because of _something_ that was in Leeds’ backpack.  And if you had been here to watch your stupid fucking boyfriend this wouldn’t have happened!”

 

Peter fell.  He fell and he didn’t even register hitting the ground.

 

Everything faded.

 

Liz was dead.

 

_Ned_ was dead.  His best friend, his _brother_ , was dead and—

 

It.

 

Was.

 

All.

 

Peter’s.

 

Fault.

 

* * *

 

 

He felt like he was drowning.  Like everything he was feeling turned to water and was choking him.  It blocked his chest and his throat and came out of his eyes and his nose.  He’d cried for hours.

 

The paramedics had to pick him up and move him to one of the ambulances.  They moved all of the people that were in the monument to a nearby hospital and had all of the kids call their parents.

 

Someone had to call May for Peter because he couldn’t stop crying long enough to dial her number.

 

They, _someone_ , put all of the Midtown students on a flight home.

 

Only after they were interviewed of course.

 

Peter remembered maybe two questions of his interview.  They were “What’s your name?” and “Why did Ned Leeds have an explosive device of some kind in his backpack?”

 

Peter mumbled his name and denied that he knew anything.

 

Then he acted like he was inconsolable and they left him alone.

 

Well.

 

It wasn’t acting.

 

It got the people in the suits to leave him alone all the same.

 

Peter was sat next to MJ on the flight back.  He didn’t say anything and neither did she.  Peter had a feeling that he would never hear her speak to him again actually.  He wouldn’t talk to him either.

 

When they landed Peter nearly sprinted from the plane to where he could hear May whispering and praying.

 

He ran right into her arms and cried some more.

 

* * *

 

 

That night, all he could think about was how the deaths really _were_ his fault.  If he hadn’t messed with the weapons dealers and the Vulture guy he never would have found that stupid fucking alien tech. 

 

Those deaths, his friend’s death, were Peter’s fault and Spider-Man’s fault and no one would ever know.  No one would punish him.

 

Unless he told.  But he couldn’t do that because May would be the one to really be hurt in that situation.  It would be May that suffered the most, not Peter.  That wouldn’t be fair.

 

So Peter decided he would punish himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me say sorry again guys. This was a really rough decision because Ned is My Boy y'all. I love him. But, based on what I could tell from the movie, Karen helped Peter get out of the bunker quite a bit quicker than he would have otherwise. He only barely made it in time with her help and without her, well, I think this is probably what would have happened.
> 
> Don't hate me too much?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we go! I hope someone still wants to read this after the last chapter. I would like to ask a favor if you guys don't mind. I'm experimenting with Peter having a stutter in this story, with the caveat that he's always had one but he's had years of speech therapy for it and it's not prevalent in most circumstances. The recent traumatic events have kind caused its return. I do realize that there's no research that links trauma and stuttering but I didn't think it would be too terrible to include it. If it is, or if it seems like I've put too much in or written it oddly, please let me know. I'd really like to know what everyone thinks.

Life was... _different_ after Washington.  Bad different.  Peter couldn’t really explain it better than that.  It was hard for him to leave his bed.  Really, really hard.  Honestly, he wanted to just lay down and die.  Maybe, he thought to himself some nights, if he died Ned could come back.  Exchange one for the other.

 

Maybe.

 

Probably not.  Things didn’t work out good for Peter like that.  Maybe that was universal balance or something.  Superpowers in exchange for everyone he loved dying.  That wasn’t a deal that he would have made if he’d had the choice.

 

Or, shit, maybe Peter was just really fucking terrible at life and this superhero thing.  He got his uncle killed, didn’t he?  It was his fault the guy got away and shot Ben in the fucking street.  He got Ned and Liz and Mr. Harrington killed too.  If he’d been smart enough to realize that they shouldn’t be messing around with really dangerous alien tech and the crazy bad guys that were hoarding it Ned wouldn’t have gotten himself fucking blown up.

 

Shit, no, _Peter_ wouldn’t have gotten Ned blown up.

 

God, he was such a horrible person.  He was a horrible son, nephew, friend, _brother_ and he fucking deserved to—

 

“Peter?”  May knocked on his door lightly and stuck her head in.  The light streaming in from the hall was the only light in his room so he was sure she could barely see him.  “Honey? Do you want to try to go to school today?”

 

Peter kept silent and rolled over so he was facing the wall. He pulled his blankets and comforter higher.

 

He heard May sigh and walk in.  She approached the side of his bed and sat down beside him.  She put her hand on his hurt arm and started to rub.  She meant it to be comforting, he was sure, but all it did was irritate the injury that he hid from her.

 

He kept quiet though.  He deserved the pain.  It was his own stupid fault.

 

“They’re having a memorial today. You’ve laid in bed all week, sweetheart.  Don’t you want to see your friends?”

 

Peter couldn’t help himself.  “I don’t have any f-f-friends anymore.  Ned was my friend.  My _o-only_ friend.  And he’s d-d-dead.”

 

“Oh, honey.”  May sniffled and ran her hand though his hair.  “What about that girl Michelle?  Isn’t she your friend?”

 

Peter shook his head.  “No.  W-w-we’re not friends.”

 

May sighed.  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the memorial?”

 

Peter nodded.  “We already went to the funerals. I don’t wa-wa-wanna—“

 

May gently shushed him.  “Alright.  It’s okay.”

 

Peter turned himself around so he could wrap his arm around her.  Laying on his right shoulder _hurt_ but it was worth it.

 

“You gotta make me a deal though.  You’re gonna get up, brush your teeth, and eat something.  Then you and I are gonna lay in my bed and watch some movies.  Okay?”

 

Peter nodded against her side.  He _really_ didn’t want to leave his bed but the promise of getting to snuggle with May in her bed was far too difficult for him to resist, even if he was trying to punish himself.

 

It was hard to say no to Aunt May.

 

So, for the first time in nearly a week, Peter got out of bed and ate some cereal.  He drank some orange juice and brushed his teeth and tried to listen to May when she talked.  She seemed to be trying to fill the silence with how much she spoke about nothing.

 

He only responded when she finally brought up the thing he’d been dreading.

 

“I think we might need to look into therapy.”

 

Peter, seated at the dinning room table, shook his head rapidly.  “N-no.  I don’t wa-wanna.  I don’t n-need it.”

 

May leveled a near glare at Peter.  “Peter, it’s not a bad thing to go to a therapist.  Especially in these kinds of situations.  I’ll admit that I made a mistake in not taking you to one when Ben died; I probably should have but I could barely handle getting up myself.  I don’t think we ever really dealt with it.”

 

She took a breath.  “If it would make it any easier, I could go with you.”

 

Peter wasn’t sure.  He really, _really_ , didn’t want to go to therapy but it seemed as if he didn’t really have a choice.  He could probably convince May to let it go but all that would really do is make her hover over him even more.  So it would probably be easier to just do it.  She offered to go too; that might make it better.

 

Peter nodded.

 

May smiled.  “Good.  Maybe we could call Dr. Adams as well.  I noticed that you started to stutter again, just the tiniest bit, after Ben died.  It’s worse now though.  Maybe it would be a good idea to talk to her again.”

 

Now that was something Peter was pretty against.  Dr. Adams was the speech therapist that Ben and May took him too when he was young.  Well, it had been his parents, Richard and Mary, that started him there when they’d suspected he stuttered but Ben and May took over when they had died shortly after.  His stutter had gotten a lot better over the years and especially since the spider bite.  After Ben died, though, he’d started again.  Only a little and only occasionally but he’d still regressed.

 

It was worse now.

 

 It wasn’t that he didn’t like Dr. Adams, on the contrary she was really wonderful, but he knew it’d be a waste of money.

 

He shook his head.  “No.  She’d just give me th-th-the same exercises.”

 

“Still, I’m sure it couldn’t hurt to call.”

 

Peter shrugged.  If she really wanted to call she could.

 

“Alright.”  May smiled.  “Now, I’m pretty sure we have some movies calling our names.  Come on.”  She stops and ruffled his hair.  “I call the _Star Wars_ blanket.”

 

She ran to the couch and retrieved the comfiest blanket in the apartment, then darted to her room.

 

Peter stood quickly, nearly making himself dizzy.

 

“N-no fair!”

 

He ran after her and, for the first time since that horrible trip, he felt something resembling happiness.

 

* * *

 

Peter’s first day back at school was...pretty shitty.

 

He spent nearly every second of it alone.  No one talked to him.  People barely _looked_ at him.  But everyone was happy to whisper about him.

 

_That’s the kid whose friend died._

 

_The one who went missing, right? And his friend had the bomb or whatever in his bag?_

 

_I heard he was in on it._

 

_They were definitely the type to shoot up a school or blow up a bomb.  They were always creepy and shit._

 

Teenagers were shitty, Peter had decided.  He felt that he was uniquely qualified to make that assessment. 

 

The teachers weren’t much better though.

 

If they acknowledged he was there, it was during attendance.  None of them seemed to want to deal with him at all.  A couple of them even seemed to be outright angry at Peter.  They would glare at him when they thought he wasn’t looking and wouldn’t call on him for anything.  He would get the absolute minimum of acknowledgment for his work from those teachers and that was _after_ they picked his work apart for any tiny detail that might not be perfect.

 

He couldn’t really blame them though.  Peter was angry at Peter.

 

It still wasn’t a nice feeling.

 

What he really hated, though, was what everyone was saying about Ned.  He hated how they thought he blew up that stupid elevator on purpose.  It was ridiculous because _everyone_ knew Ned and they all loved him.  He was one of those guys that everyone liked immediately when they met and no one ever thought anything bad of him.  At least, he thought they did.

 

Peter guessed he was wrong.  He’d been wrong a lot lately.

 

The misery at school hit its peak the Tuesday before homecoming.  It was the first decathlon team meeting since Washington and Michelle and Principal Morita had taken over Liz's and Mr. Harrington’s spots respectively.  They hadn’t found a replacement for Ned.

 

Peter didn’t think they would.

 

Peter walked in to the auditorium they used for practice before anyone else arrived.  He sat down in the chair furthest from any other and pulled out the book he was supposed to be reading for English.

 

He’d gotten through half a chapter by the time Michelle and Principal Morita walked in.  They were talking to each other in hushed tones and Peter did his best to block them out.  He could hear the words but their meaning just washed over him.  He didn’t care about how the team was going to cope and how Michelle was actually a bit nervous about being the new captain.  He was just there because Ned would have been disappointed if he wasn’t.

 

Principal Morita left Michelle shuffling some papers and then pulled up a chair beside Peter.

 

“Hello Mr. Parker.  How are you?”

 

Peter shrugged and closed his book.  “F-fine.”

 

Morita hummed.  “How do you feel being back with the team?”

 

“It’s f-fine.  Good, I guess.”

 

“Good, good.  Peter, if you’d like, we do have grief counselors available for students that might—“

 

“N-no, thank you.”  Peter interrupted.  “May made us an appointment with a therapist.”

 

Morita nodded.  “Alright.  Just let us know if you need anything.”  Then he stood and went to the desk that was set up for them.

 

Michelle stayed on her side of the room looking over some papers and Peter went back to his book.  He felt like he needed to say something, _anything_ , to her but he just...he couldn’t.  He didn’t know what exactly he wanted to say but it was just there, sitting solid in his gut.

 

He _was_ responsible for Ned.  For Liz and Mr. Harrington.  He just really, _really_ , wanted someone to know.  Michelle seemed like the person to tell.  She was a staunch advocate for justice and holding people accountable and Peter knew that she would do something, say something, to make sure that Peter was held accountable.  He just couldn’t force himself to speak.

 

And then the door opened again and it was too late to say anything at all.

 

The rest of the team walked in, not in one group but in several smaller ones that walked in together.  Peter saw Flash talking quietly with Abraham.  Flash looked up and saw Peter and his face shifted into pure rage.

 

“What the hell is he doing here?”  Flash spat, pointing at Peter.

 

Principal Morita stood and moved to stand between the Peter and everyone else.

 

He held his hands up.  “Peter is allowed to be here.  He wasn’t involved in anything and isn’t going to be punished for anything.”

 

That made Flash even angrier.  “He wasn’t even there!  He wasn't at the competition or at the stupid fucking tour!  So if he’s not gonna show up when he needs to then why the hell does he still get to show up here?”

 

Morita shook his head.  “That’s being addressed.  He’s still welcome to be on the team if he wants to be.”

 

Peter hadn’t known that his mysterious absence was being addressed by anyone.  No one had talked to him about anything after the initial questioning in D.C.

 

“That’s not fair.”

 

Peter turned his head in shock.  That was Cindy.  Cindy had never been anything but nice to him.

 

Principal Morita responded.  “I know everyone’s upset and hurting—“

 

Cindy shook her head.  “Yeah, but that’s not the point.  Peter hasn’t even been _trying_ lately.  He almost always shows up late, he barely participates when he’s here, and he missed Nationals.  It’s not fair that everyone else has to do so much just to be on the team and Peter gets to do whatever he wants and still stay on the team.  _That’s_ what isn’t fair.”

 

Principal Morita was quiet for a moment and looked to Michelle, who had been standing quietly to the side looking the papers in her hand.

 

She looked up and met Morita’s eyes.

 

“She has a point.”  She whispered.

 

“Thank you!”  Flash crowed.

 

That was enough for Peter.  He understood their anger, he really did, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt that they wanted him gone.

 

He stood.  “O-okay.  I’ll go.”

 

Morita started to speak.  “Peter—“

 

Peter shook his head as he slung his backpack on.  “I-it’s okay.  I-I-I get it.”

 

“G-g-g-good l-l-loser!”  Flash mocked as Peter shoved last him.

 

Michelle punched Flash in the arm.  “Don’t be a dick.”

 

Morita tried to stop him, saying that he didn’t have to leave, but Peter wanted to.  He didn’t want to be anymore of a burden than he already was.  Besides, he was supposed to be punishing himself and decathlon was one of the few things he had left in his life that brought him something like happiness.

 

It was one of the few things that reminded him of Ned.  It was only fitting that Peter be denied it now that Ned was gone.

 

So Peter left.  He walked as quickly as he could through the school and out, eyes watering with tears he hadn’t thought he still had.

 

He made his way home alone.

 

* * *

 

May wasn’t home when Peter made it home.  That wasn’t unusual considering that she tended to work well into the evenings during the week and Peter generally wasn’t home till then either.

 

That had been because of decathlon though.  So Peter supposed that he’d be home right after school from now on.  It was shitty but it also let him get back into bed faster.

 

That was he exactly what he did too.  He stripped down to his boxers and threw on a comfortable t-shirt and slipped under his covers.  His building was pretty quiet for once so he relaxed and tried to let sleep take him.

 

It didn’t of course.  Nothing ever went his way anymore.  Instead, Peter laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and tried to forget.  He tried to forget how Ned had already planned their weekend for the Star Wars premier in December.  They were supposed to take apart and rebuild their favorite LEGO Star Wars sets after they saw the movie and trade theories and headcanons.

 

He tried to forget that Ned’s birthday was coming up in a couple of months.

 

He tried to forget that he would have to go to school without a friend.  A brother.

 

He couldn’t. So he just stayed where he was and he hurt.  That was all he really was after Washington: hurt.

 

He must have laid in bed for longer than he intended because May was home before he knew it.

 

“Peter?  I’m home!”  She called from the kitchen where she set her stuff down.  He heard her footsteps head towards his room.  She knocked gently on his door and peaked her head in.

 

She sighed.  “Oh, Peter.”

 

She walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge.  She took his hand.

 

“Rough day?”

 

He nodded.

 

“When did you get home?”

 

Peter shrugged.  “M-m-maybe around 4.”

 

“I thought practice lasted longer than that.”

 

He couldn’t meet her eyes.  “I’m not on the team anym-more.”

 

She stilled.  “What do you mean? Why not?”

 

He shrugged again.  “I don’t wa-wanna be ‘cause the other kids are upset.  With me.”

 

“Why are they upset with you? You didn’t do anything, honey.”

 

“Exactly.  I think they blame me for Ned’s backpack exploding.  I wa-wasn’t there and they think if I was it wouldn’t ha-have happened.  And I haven’t been very p-p-present since Ben died.  They just d-d-don’t want me.”

 

May seemed to be shaking like she was about to explode with anger.  “There is no way on this earth I’m letting that stand.  I’m going to get someone to cover for me tomorrow morning and I’m going down to that stupid principal’s office and—“

 

Peter finally met her eyes in a panic and shook his head.  “N-no! P-please, May, don’t! It’ll just make things harder.  Please.  It’s not that important.”

 

“No, Peter, it is!  It’s unacceptable and I won’t stand for it.”

 

Peter grabbed her hand and pleaded.  “Please, please just let it g-go! Please. For me.”

 

May sighed and shook her head.  “How about we ask the therapist on Monday? We can see what they’ll say about it and go from there.  I made the appointment for then so you could come up with somethings to talk about and maybe go to homecoming if you wanted to.”

 

Peter shook his head.  “I don’t wa-wanna.  I’m just gonna stay in Friday.”

 

May leaned down and kissed his head.  “That’s fine.  I have to work a little later than I usually do on Fridays but I should be back around 8.  We can do something fun after.”

 

“Sounds g-good.”

 

May smiled and stood.  “Goodnight, baby.  I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

She stepped out and shut the door.

 

Peter let the darkness take him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that wasn't too hard on everyone. I didn't really want to include any physical self-harm because I don't really think that's the kind of punishment Peter would give himself. He thrives so much on social contact that I think isolation would be the way that he would attempt to punish himself for the events he see himself responsible for.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed! Please let me know about the stuttering like I mentioned in the beginning note. I'm really uncertain about it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. Last chapter! Enjoy!

The next day passed in something of a blur.  His commute faded from memory so completely he actually wondered how he got to school.  His classes rolled right along in silence as no one even acknowledged Peter existed.

 

He ate lunch by himself.  Michelle had moved to sit at the end of Betty’s table after the trip.

 

By the time the last bell rang, Peter had been almost anxious to leave.  It was a bit odd considering that he had mostly been numb since Washington.  He wondered if it was bad to feel welcoming of any kind of anxiety.

 

He took his time on his way home.  He finished all of his homework at school and didn’t have anything else to do at home so Peter thought a longer route home was called for.

 

The way home took a surprising turn, though, when he ran into someone only vaguely familiar.

 

And by that Peter meant he _literally_ ran into him.

 

They collided on the street and Peter fell to the ground.

 

“Oof.  I-I’m sorry mi-mister.  I didn’t me-mean to—“

 

The man stuck his hand out to help Peter up.  He took it and was pulled to his feet.

 

“It’s alright.  Hey, you’re Peter Parker, right?  Midtown?”

 

Peter nodded and looked a little more closely at the man.  “Y-yeah.  You’re, uh, Mr. Toomes.  Liz’s dad.”

 

Mr. Toomes’ eyes were striking as he peered at Peter’s face.  “That’s right.”

 

Peter looked down.  “I-I’m really sorry about Liz.  I wi-wish someone had been th-there to save her.  All of them.”

 

Mr. Toomes grunted.  “Yeah.  Me too.  I gotta jet, kid, but I’ll see you around.”

 

Mr. Toomes stepped past Peter and walked away quickly.  Peter sighed.  He really was a burden on everyone he met. He took up time and space and made everything an inconvenience at best.  Peter wished he could be better, do better, but he just didn’t know how.

 

Peter shook his head.  He needed to go home.

 

* * *

 

Peter’s days proceed in the same way till homecoming.  School that morning was the same as it had been; the only difference was that the teachers gave a lighter load of work because it was Friday _and_ homecoming.

 

So when he finished his homework very shortly after getting home he was at something of a loss as to what he should while he waited for May.  It was so difficult to resist the call of his bed but he knew that if he _did_ get back in his bed he wouldn’t get back up. He’d sink back into the misery and blackness that he’d been mired in since Ned died.  May wouldn’t want that.  She didn’t deserve that after working such a long day.

 

Naturally, his thoughts turned to the thing he’d been using to fill his time since before Ben died: Spider-Man.  He hadn’t put his gear on since Washington and, even as restless as he had been, had no had the desire to put it on again.  Peter just didn’t feel like he deserved to.  What use was a hero that couldn’t actually do anything meaningful?  What use was a hero that constantly, _constantly_ , fucked up everything he tried to fix?  Hell, what use was a nearly crippled hero?  Peter’s arm was _still_ hurt.  He hardly had any range of motion with it. 

 

It, Spider-Man he meant, just wasn’t...it wasn’t something Peter felt right doing just yet; maybe ever again.

 

So Spider-Man was out.  What did that leave him with?

 

Poor, Plain Peter Parker.

 

Boring Peter Parker.

 

Creepy Peter Parker.

 

Friendless Peter Parker.

 

Peter felt tears pricking at the edges of his eyes as he collapsed down onto the couch.  Peter was so, so alone.  The only person he had anymore was May and he couldn’t imagine what he would do if she—

 

Peter’s body froze.  No, he thought to himself, that was not a train of thought to follow.

 

So, with nothing else to do and no desire to find something to do, Peter sat on the couch and stared into the nothingness of the black screen of the TV.  He sat in silence until, hours later, May still hadn’t come home.  It was well past 9 P.M. when Peter finally moved to check his phone.  Peter frowned as he looked down at it.  He didn’t have any messages.  He scrolled through his contacts list and found May’s work number.  She wasn’t allowed to have her phone on her at work so he’d have better luck calling the work number.

 

It rang twice before one of her coworkers answered.

 

“Hi, my name’s P-Peter Parker.  I wa-was wondering if my aunt, May Parker, is still th-there?”

 

“Honey, she left over an hour ago.  Have you tried calling her yet?”

 

“I wi-will.  Th-thank you.”

 

“Have a goodnight, sweetie.”

 

Peter hung up and took a deep breath.  It never took May more than thirty minutes to get home from work and she always, _always_ , called when she was going to be late.  Something was wrong.

 

Peter opened up his favorite list and called her.  It rang and rang and rang and—

 

“ _Hi, you’ve reached May Parker.  I’m unable to—_ “

 

He hung up and dialed again.

 

It rang.

 

“ _Hi, you’ve reached May Parker.  I’m unable to—_ “

 

And rang.

 

“ _Hi, you’ve reached May Parker.  I’m unable to—_ “

 

And rang again.

 

“ _Hi, you’ve reached May Parker.  I’m unable to—_ “

 

Peter’s hands had started shaking so badly he wasn’t able to hold onto the phone anymore.  It fell to the floor with a clatter.

 

“N-no, no, M-May, she—“  Peter couldn’t breathe.

 

He couldn’t _breathe_.  Peter tried to suck some air in but nothing came, he just gasped and felt like he was dying.

 

He was dying.  Peter was dying because _May_ —

 

Suddenly, his phone lit up with May’s contact image and started to vibrate.

 

He forced his body to move and scrambled to answer it.

 

“Oh, th-th-thank god, _May_ , where—“

 

“Heya, Spidey.  How’s your night going?”

 

That was a man’s voice.  That was a man’s voice on his aunt’s phone and it sounded like—

 

“Mr. Toomes?”

 

“That’s right Petey!  Now, hey, your aunt and I, we’re out havin’ a nice time and all but I think she misses you.  Why don’t you _swing_ on over and come see us, huh?  We’re at that big ol’ eyesore that Stark calls Avengers Tower.  I’d hurry if I were you.  She’s, uh, just barely hanging on.”

 

“Wa-wait—“

 

The line went dead.

* * *

 

Peter ran and swung and jumped faster than he ever had before in his life.  He made it to Manhattan in what must have been record time.

 

He felt his world shatter for the second time in two weeks as he climbed to the top of the building he’d loved since it had been built.

 

He stared at the Vulture, Liz’s _dad_ , as he held May over the edge of Avengers Tower with one his wings.

 

“You know, kid, I actually really wanna thank you.  You made this so fuckin’ easy.  Did you know that?”

 

Peter couldn’t respond.  He was frozen.

 

“Ah, c’mon, kid.  Relax a little.  Wouldn’t want the last thing your aunt to see to be my ugly mug, would it?  Take the silly goggles and the mask off.”

 

He didn’t move.

 

The Vulture moved the wing and May’s shirt tore just a little more.  She screamed

 

Peter’s hands flew to his face.

 

“Wait!  P-p-please!”

 

The mask and goggles were ripped off Peter’s face and biting wind chilled his face.

 

May’s face, which was already contorted in fear, became even more panicked.

 

“Peter! Baby, please, just run! Go get help!”

 

Toomes shook his head. “That wouldn’t be smart, kid.”

 

It didn’t matter either way.  Peter wasn’t going to leave Aunt May.

 

“Now,” the Vulture continued, “I just want you to know that this, all of this, is your fault.  See, if you had minded your own damn business, stuck to the minor leagues, we wouldn’t be in this situation. My family would be safe and yours would be too.”

 

“But instead you had to go around playing the masked hero.”

 

He chuckled. “You played it badly too. Did you know that? It wasn’t so hard to figure out that the bomb at the Washington Monument was Chitauri tech and that no one I sold it to was responsible.  That tech, then, could have only been picked up by someone who knew about my operation and wasn’t afraid of what I might do:  Spider-Man.  You.”

 

“And the only reason a high schooler would have it is if Spider-Man gave it to him. Any adult in this, uh, _business_ would never trust a teenager with dangerous tech, even _potentially_ dangerous tech, so, I thought, it must have been another teenager.”

 

“Spider-Man was really no man at all. Once I figured that out it was ridiculously easy to pick you out.  You were the only one missing from the monument, which is why Spider-Man never made an appearance, and you also dropped all of the extracurriculars that you were in right around the same time Spider-Man started popping up.”

 

Toomes smirked. “It really wasn’t hard to figure out.  Finding your family,” he shook his wing again, causing May to bounce even more, “was even easier. Now I get to take your family away from you like you took mine from me.”

 

Peter gulped. “P-please, I-I never m-meant for anyone to get h-hurt! Ju-just please let her go. You can hurt me all you w-want, b-but please let her go!”

 

Toomes seemed to think about it. “Okay.”

 

The wing pulled back and—

 

May.

 

Fell.

 

* * *

 

It was white when he woke up.

 

Peter couldn’t remember anything after May falling except some vague impressions. He remembered panic, grief, and misery. Those were followed by rage and fury and pain and violence like he’d never felt before.  Then it was just black.

 

He was in a hospital, he thought at first, because of the beeping of the heart monitor and the fact that his bad arm was in a cast.  When he looked around and found himself in large room alone, he put that idea aside.  He was somewhere else.

 

But what did it matter?

 

He laid back down and stared at the ceiling. Nothing mattered anymore.

 

It didn’t matter where he was.  He could be in his grave and he wouldn’t care.

 

He’d prefer it actually.  At least then he would be beside his family.

 

His parents and uncle that were in the ground. 

 

His dead family.

 

Aunt May was dead.  Aunt May would be in the ground beside them soon.  Was it too much to ask for Peter to be with them too?

 

So, no, Peter didn’t know or care where he was because he knew that May wouldn’t be with him.  The woman that raised him, that loved him like no one else ever had, was dead because of him.  She spent her last moments in terror because of him.

 

And, really, what had Peter expected after Uncle Ben and Ned died?  Peter murdered everyone close to him just by fucking existing.

 

Was it any surprise, he thought to himself bitterly, that he killed May like he had his only friend and the rest of his family?

 

He hoped wherever he was was somewhere that would keep him contained.  Punished him, even.

 

If he couldn’t do it himself, if he was too weak to do it himself, he hoped he was with someone who would.

 

The door down the hall interrupted Peter’s thoughts. He heard footsteps as whoever entered walked towards his bed. Peter lay quiet with his eyes shut.

 

He felt them approach his bed and stand next to it.

 

“I know you’re awake, kid.  Would you open your eyes so we can have a chat?”

 

The voice was...familiar?  Peter wasn’t sure where he had heard it before but it was so familiar.

 

Familiar enough to open his eyes.

 

He didn’t believe them when he did.

 

Tony Stark, _Iron Man_ , stared down at him with something unreadable in his eyes.

 

“Morning, kid. How ya feeling?”

 

Peter’s brow furrowed. “U-um, okay?  I-I guess.”

 

“Any pain?”

 

Peter did a quick inventory.  “No, n-not really. Um. Wh-where am I?”

 

Mr. Stark dragged a chair beside his bed and sat. “Well, you’re still in New York.  Upstate at my satellite Avengers facility.  Best medical care for the budding superhero on the east coast.”

 

Peter...wasn’t all that surprised that Mr. Stark, one of the original superheroes, knew he was Spider-Man.  Especially considering that Peter didn’t remember how or if the Vulture was defeated.

 

He needed to know.  “Wh-what happened?”

 

Mr. Stark hummed.  “With the Vulture guy?  He’s been comatose since your fight but as for the rest, well, I was hoping you could help me with that.  I know quite a bit about the events leading up to your fight, the weapons dealing and the Washington Monument explosion, but everything else is a little unclear right now.  Feel up to sharing?”

 

Peter looked at his hands for a beat.  All he wanted to do was cry.  But he needed Mr. Stark to know, he needed _someone_ to make sure he—

 

He needed someone to make sure that Peter got what he deserved.

 

So Peter sucked in a breath and talked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the end of this story, I promise. I realize this is a really fairly dark story but this is about as dark as it gets. We've kind of reached the bottom so the only way is up? I know, I know. I'm sorry. 
> 
> I'm in the middle of writing a sequel that is far more on the comfort side of the hurt/comfort scale. Be on the look out for that if you want to see this continue!
> 
> Thank you all so much for joining me and reading this. I really, really appreciate all of you!


End file.
